


Let Down

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Series: Suckle 'Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breast Pumps, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Nursing Kink, adult nursing relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's bought Sam a birthday present, which explores an additional facet to their lifestyle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Down

Dean’s been secretive for days, and it’s not hard to guess why. He’s certainly bought Sam something for his birthday, even if Sam had made him promise not to do anything too extravagant. A package had come in a few days ago, and it doesn’t take much to figure out that whatever was in it is what has Dean acting so sneaky.

 

Sure enough, a neatly wrapped present is brought out after Sam’s birthday dinner, and Dean stops him from speaking by holding up a hand.

 

“This is for us,” Dean says, tapping the box, “not just you, so no complaints, capiche?”

 

“Capiche.” Sam huffs a laugh, dragging the box closer and unwrapping it carefully. He sits quietly, starting at the box containing the top-quality double electric pump. He looks at Dean, who’s pink-cheeked but utterly calm. “You bought it.”

 

“Yeah. I thought . . . I thought maybe it was time. I know I can’t always be enough to milk you, especially on the job,” Dean fiddles with his ring for a moment before continuing. “And you know I like watching.”

 

Of course, Sam is well aware of Dean’s fascination with watching Sam pump the excess milk from his chest, how Dean likes to do it himself just to be close when it happens even when he doesn’t have time to nurse. Sam’s achingly hard in his jeans, just imagining what it might feel like.

 

“C-can we?” Sam asks softly, stroking his thumb over the shiny finish of the box.

 

“Yeah,” Dean ducks down for a kiss, cradling Sam’s face. “Let’s go.”

 

Sam’s grateful that Dean heads straight for the bedroom; he’s not sure how he’d feel about doing this out in the open their first try, even if the the couch is where a lot of their feedings happen. Together, they unbox the pump, and Dean heads straight for assembly while Sam pulls out the booklet of directions.

 

The carry case is nice, discreet enough that they could take it along on hunts if they wanted. Dean’s got everything hooked up, instinct guiding him in attaching the hoses and plastic parts together until he’s got the shields cupped in his hands.

 

“How do you want to do this?” he asks softly, letting Sam take the lead.

 

Looking at the bed, Sam hums thoughtfully. He strips off his shirt and the nursing tank underneath, and crawls up the bed, situating himself against the headboard with their pillows behind his back. He pats his lap with a little smile.

 

“Let’s try like this.”

 

Dean plugs in the pump, placing the bag on the bedside table and putting the shields and attached hosing next to Sam. He gingerly settles on Sam’s thighs, making sure they’re both as comfortable as they can be.

 

Getting the shields into place is second nature now, Dean knowing just how to get Sam’s nipples centered, holding the flanges in place with his hands. Sam leans over, twisting the knob of the pump to on and sucking in a sharp breath as the suction starts up. He turns it so it’s a strong but pain-free pull, and sits back. There’s the familiar tingling rush of letdown, the quick beat of the initial rhythm bringing his milk quickly.

 

Sam relaxes into the comfort and contentment, watching Dean with a faint smile on his lips. His brother is staring at the tugging of Sam’s nipples, the little rushes of milk that trickle down into the waiting containers. His fingers flex absently, used to massaging Sam’s chest to coax the milk out while he nurses.

 

“Dean,” Sam murmurs. Dean looks up, face a little flushed but with the same drowsy look he always gets. He leans forward, careful not to put his weight on Sam’s chest. Their kiss is gentle, sweet, and Sam thinks that this may be the best part of the pump, being able to kiss his brother while still being milked.

 

Pumping doesn’t take long, the trickles fading into nothing. There’s not much in the containers, two ounces at most, but Sam doesn’t feel empty. He helps Dean set aside the bottles, careful not to spill.

 

“I don’t think I’m done.” Sam cups the small swell of one breast, massaging and then squeezing gently. Sure enough, white beads up and rolls down the peaked flesh. “Do you wanna. . .”

 

“God yes,” Dean breathes. He slides off of Sam’s lap, letting him scoot down the bed to lay on his back, rearranging the pillows so they’re both comfortable on their sides.

 

Dean nudges up, nosing at Sam’s chest before latching on. His fingers curl around the area, starting up the slow, easy motions. Sam can feel the rest of his let down then, sighing at the more satisfying sensation of feeding Dean. The pump will be handy, sure. It might even be fun to play with in the future, but nothing can replace this feeling.

 

Nursing goes quickly, most of the milk gone to the pump, but Sam can’t complain. He’s dozing with Dean his arms, his brother making soft snuffling noises against his other nipple. Eventually, he breaks the latch, lapping the skin clean and settling with a sigh.

 

“What should we do with the milk, you think?” Sam asks drowsily, only getting a noncommittal sound in return. “Sell it?”

 

Dean snorts. “S’that legal?”

 

“It’s just milk, Dean. Lots of nursing mothers sell their extra, especially for mothers who are struggling to produce enough.”

 

Dean cracks one eye, looking at the bottles on the nightstand. “Wouldn’t it be weird, though, knowing someone else is drinking your milk?”

 

“Maybe. I mean. Otherwise we’ll just end up throwing it out like the rest. Un-unless you want to?”

 

“Drink it?” Dean yawns. “Maybe. Iunno. It’s not really about that for me, Sammy. You know that.”

 

Sam nods even if Dean isn’t really looking anymore. He just tugs his brother closer, and shuts his eyes. What they have is more about bonding than anything; they’ve got a routine, sure, but it’s all still new enough that neither of them are willing to try making it anything else. Not just yet, anyway.

 

 


End file.
